Beginnings
by QueenOfAces
Summary: Han and Leia face the aftermath of THE kiss.


**Beginnings**

Only now, in the safety of the locked cabin, did she allow herself to analyze the day's startling series of events. She was used to dealing with the world in a logical manner. Actions were planned when possible and were ordered even in unexpected situations.

Everyone looked to her for guidance, a 20 year old who was trained for leadership from her earliest days. Yet, in truth, she was an actress playing a role. She didn't know all the answers, but it made everyone feel better to think that she did.

She was her father's daughter, and countless people were relying on her to make decisions. She could not fail them, so she never allowed herself to show weakness. She was always in control, always reliable, and always respected…until she met him.

From the very beginning, Han made it clear that he had little regard for her title or her authority. He goaded her, chided her, questioned her, and challenged her, but rarely did he listen to her. Their arguments were legendary, as each refused to surrender to the other. He was by far the most arrogant, annoying, and hardheaded man she had ever met.

How, then, could she explain that kiss?

She had been performing repairs on the _Falcon_ when he walked into the room. Seeing her struggle, he reached around her body to help. Unnerved by his proximity and expecting some crass comment, she quickly pushed him away and prepared herself for the battle of wills that would never come. Instead, Han engaged her in conversation and reached for her injured hand.

His shift in tactics surprised her, and she waited for the sarcastic punch line to this approach. Taking advantage of her obvious confusion, he began massaging her hand, moving in close to her body. As her pulse rate quickened, she began to panic. She made some lame excuse about her hands being dirty, but Han was undeterred. In fact, he seemed downright smug as he dismissed her weakly formed protests by kissing her.

The tender touch of his lips sent her hurtling from the world of thought into the world of emotion. For the first time in her life, there was no rationalizing, no discussion, no control. She was fully immersed in feelings and sensations as her world narrowed to this moment in time, this tiny space. Her heart hammered wildly as her hand explored the trail from his chest to his neck. She pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss, his teasing tongue evoking a wave of newfound pleasure.

Never one for passive interactions, her body sought to give as much pleasure as it received. She pressed harder and deeper into the kiss, accosting his senses with her light, rhythmic touch at the base of his neck. She thrilled at the quickening of his pulse, knowing that she could make him feel that same loss of control.

It was in that instant, however, that a mechanical voice jerked her violently back into the reality of rebellion and responsibility. Panicked, she looked around the room for some means of escape. Han's annoyance with the droid provided the perfect window of opportunity and she fled unseen.

The rest of the day played out in dizzying fashion. Mynock parasites led to the discovery that their place of refuge was not a cave, but a hungry creature. They escaped, only to find themselves subjected to the dangers of the asteroid field and then the Imperial Star Destroyers. Yet another hyperdrive failure led to an ingenious improvisation. In truth, she had faced a number of near-death situations that day. However, as they drifted safely away with the rest of the garbage, the real terror began--Leia was forced to confront her feelings.

* * *

With the lock on the cabin properly engaged, Leia should have felt secure. Han Solo could not invade her privacy, flash that cocky grin, or infuriate her with his biting wit. She was in a Solo-free zone, safe from his ego and his advances. Yet, as she looked around the room, she found the ship's captain to be everywhere. 

He had graciously offered her the use of his private cabin for the duration of the trip. _Han Solo gracious? There had to be an ulterior motive somewhere._ It was, in every way, a reflection of its owner, a place of controlled chaos. Oh, it was comfortable to be sure, but all of the amenities from the water shower to the stereo system were jury-rigged.

His belongings were placed in seemingly random piles, but he never had trouble finding anything. His tastes were also surprising. Though he seemed to be a simplistic guy, he possessed several pieces of art, including a reproduction of one of her favorite paintings. She even found a disc of poetry sandwiched between technical schematics and star charts.

The central feature of the room, however, was the bed. Standard-issue bunks were apparently not good enough for Solo. No, he had splurged on an expensive and sinfully luxurious bed with more than enough room for two.

"Hah!" she thought bitterly. "He could have paid off Jabba the Hutt by now if he hadn't created such a playground for entertaining his hussies!"

She felt anger bubble to the surface as she thought about all of the women Han Solo had entertained in this room (and, more subtly, at the thought of him leaving).

"Get a grip, Leia!" she said aloud. "What do you care who he spends time with?"

If she were to be honest with herself, however, she would be forced to admit that she cared deeply about Han Solo. However, fear has a way of obscuring the truth and altering perception. Though she did not realize it, Leia had never been more afraid in her life.

Her connection to this man had grown steadily since the day he helped to rescue her from the Death Star. They might have bickered constantly, but Han and Leia were bound together by a thousand tiny events. He was the one who remembered her birthday, and she had helped him overcome his anger by challenging him to a run. She brought him a rare Corellian ba'ot medallion, and he had gently guided her through those miserable days after the destruction of Alderaan.

As she reflected upon her current situation, however, her thoughts were drawn back to that terrible night on Hoth. She could still hear the grinding metal clang when the blast doors closed and feel her abject terror at the thought of losing Han. The tears she shed that night stung her eyes even now, and her mind touched briefly upon an unthinkable idea—she loved him!

Her body immediately clenched, knowing that it could not afford to lose what it loved. She could not survive another trauma, another flood of emotions. She could also not endure another rejection. Eventually, he would see the person she really was, and he would leave her, just as her real parents had years before. She could take it if he hated her "Ice Princess" persona, but she could not bear for him to dismiss the real woman underneath.

Without any conscious thought, she raised her shields and developed a plan of attack. She had a mission to complete, a noble cause worthy of her time. Over the next few weeks, Leia immersed herself in work. She finished all outstanding paperwork, then created new projects to complete. She tirelessly researched possible new alliances and planned the written proposals and speeches she would need to close each deal. When her mind became the least bit troubled, she asked Chewbacca for physically demanding tasks that would sap her strength and allow her to sleep.

She carefully avoided Han, however. When they inevitably met on the small ship, she was insanely polite and refused to be provoked in any way. Han had never seen such defenses from the princess and was at a loss as to how to reach her.

Ever the adventurous soul, Han refused to stop trying. He yelled, he screamed, he flirted, he insulted her, he made bad jokes, he tried to be a friend, he ignored her, and he attempted to help her. As the _Falcon_ neared Bespin, however, even the unflappable Han Solo began to lose hope.

* * *

Though she gave her best effort, Leia was not the automaton she strived to be. Supressed emotions strained against walls, producing tiny cracks in her defenses and making it difficult for her to function. Unable to sleep one night, Leia crept quietly past the crew quarters in order to reach the Falcon's empty cockpit. Still standing, she stared silently out the window, watching the stars pass before her.

She was suddenly overwhelmed by loneliness, as the view reminded her of a world long gone, her home that was erased from existence. She began to think of people and places, the smell of her father's cologne. She saw the sun set over the river, remembering young couples dancing to the summer's sultry music. She thought of the children playing and laughing during palace festivities. She could feel the gentle rain on her face and touch the gnarled old tree that had been her favorite hiding place as a child.

She then remembered that she had been the cause of its destruction. The Empire had chosen her beloved home as a target for revenge. If she had only done things differently, been more careful, those people would not have died.

"That damn kiss," she thought as the pain began to envelop her.

"I never wanted to feel again, never wanted to experience the loss. I was in control, I had moved on…why did I allow myself to open up again? Holding people at a distance and immersing myself in my work kept me alive. Now, all I can see are the terrified faces, blaming me for their suffering."

"How can I live with myself?" her mind screamed, as a tear slowly streamed down her cheek.

At just that moment, Han Solo found his way into the room. He halted in the doorway, overwhelmed by her simple beauty. She was dressed in a basic white shirt and borrowed pants that hung loosely around her frame. Her hair was gloriously unbound, yet she seemed strangely chained by her thoughts. Unsure about how to approach her, he simply stated the obvious.

"You've been avoiding me," he said.

Startled, Leia tried desperately to regain her composure. She managed to say "I know" without her voice wavering too badly.

Normally she would have given some sharp retort, but without understanding why, she wanted him to be there. Instinctively knowing that she was in pain, Han moved closer and placed a protective hand upon her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

She moved away quickly, trying to keep him from seeing that she was upset.

"Nothing, Han. I…I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"Leia," he said as he gently turned her to face him, "It's not nothing. Let me help you."

She quickly averted her eyes, not wanting him to see her weakness. It was too late, however. He gently lifted her chin and wiped away the remains of the tear glistening on her cheek. As he looked into her eyes, he was momentarily able to glimpse into her soul.

"It's Alderaan, isn't it?" he said softly.

Spoken aloud, the name had a power Leia could have never imagined. It smashed her defenses, tore through her supports, and ripped the bandages that had been holding her together these past couple of years. She immediately burst into tears and began to shake violently.

As the sobs threatened to dissolve her body, Han reached around her and held her as tightly as he dared. He then gathered her in his arms and eased himself into the co-pilot's chair. He cradled her through the worst of it, stroking her hair with his free hand and kissing the top of her head as he tried desperately to bring stability into her world. He wanted to protect her, to care for her, to love her.

"Love?" he thought. "Where did that come from?"

Before he could ponder the question further, Leia's distraught mumbling diverted his attention. Between sobs, she brokenly accepted responsibility for everything bad that had ever happened in the universe. Han simply soothed her with his voice, reminding her over and over that it was not her fault.

"Shhh," he cooed. "Don't cry." "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met." "It's not your fault, Sweetheart." "You are strong, Leia." "It was Vader, not you."

As the pain began to subside, his words began to settle in her mind. They grounded her, brought her hope. She did not have to carry this burden alone. As he willed his strength into her, the tears slowly began to subside. She felt safe and at peace for the first time in what seemed like forever. She was warm, she was cared for, she was…_oh, gods_.

She quickly pushed herself away from his chest and sheepishly said, "I'm sorry."

She was mortified that she had cried like that, but she was even more uncomfortable with the fact that she had clung to him so desperately.

Han, for his part, was upset by the loss of her warmth against him. His hand still rested behind her head, however, and he firmly guided her gaze toward him. He wanted her to see his face as he said, "There's nothing to be sorry about, Leia. You had demons to face and I was glad to be able to help."

At a rare loss for words, Leia simply stared at him, mesmerized by his eyes. Han held her gaze, searching for some clue as to what she was feeling. Encouraged by the trust and gratitude he saw there, he leaned forward to give her a gentle kiss on the lips.

He hadn't meant the kiss to be anything but a simple gesture of support, but raw emotion fueled a passionate response from Leia. At his touch, she opened her mouth to him, inviting him in without reservation. Her hands moved seemingly without her control. They explored his chest, his back, the muscles of his arms. She marveled at the sheer joy she felt simply from touching him.

Han reacted with a passion of his own, burying his hands in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue tasted the sweetness of her mouth, urging her to do some exploring.

Tentatively, she stroked his tongue with her own, then moved into the unexplored space beyond. She delighted at his low moan of pleasure, and she lightly grazed his neck with her hand before running her fingers through his hair.

Han, meanwhile, blazed a trail of kisses down her jaw line. She felt his breath in her ear as he traced the contours of her earlobe with his tongue. He whispered her name and began to nibble on the sensitive flesh. Leia let out a gasp and grabbed his head in her hands. He then moved lower, caressing her neck and sneaking his tongue under the material of her shirt.

She became dizzy with pleasure as his hands began to move up her ribcage and brushed the sides of her breasts. If she weren't careful, she would completely lose herself to this man.

Sensing the brief moment of fear from Leia, Han purposefully began to slow down. He knew she wasn't ready for this and he did not want to take advantage of her. She was far too important to him. _How important was she? _

Leia adjusted quickly to the slower pace, and they contentedly kissed each other, becoming comfortable with each other's touch. Eventually, it was Han who pulled away. He knew that she had faced a difficult evening and he wanted to assure himself that she was all right.

"How are you feeling, Leia?" he asked.

She looked up at him and replied, "For the first time in a long time I feel joy without guilt. Thank you."

Touched, Han placed a light kiss on her forehead and said, "You gave me quite a scare tonight. It's good to see that my princess has returned."

Leia smiled and said, "Who would have thought I'd have a scoundrel to thank for that."

A thousand possible responses sailed through his head before he settled on "You'll have lots of things to thank this scoundrel for your Highness, but right now it's time to go to bed."

A mildly shocked look crossed her face before he added,"We're both exhausted and we'll be arriving in Cloud City soon. We could use some sleep."

Realizing that she was too tired to make much of a response, she allowed him to lead her back to the cabin. He carefully tucked her into bed, and she asked him to stay until she fell asleep.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he softly stroked her hair until she was overcome by exhaustion. At that moment, he knew that she was his princess and he was her pirate. Circumstances may separate them, but he would always come back to the woman who had captured his heart.


End file.
